


One Stormy Night

by good_fairytale



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Childhood Memories, Family Fluff, Gen, Rivendell | Imladris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:01:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29817753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/good_fairytale/pseuds/good_fairytale
Summary: Elrond is juggling his duties and family. With style.
Relationships: Elladan & Elrohir & Elrond Peredhel, Elrond Peredhel & Elros Tar-Minyatur, Elrond Peredhel & Maedhros | Maitimo
Kudos: 19





	One Stormy Night

**Author's Note:**

> Most characters, places and events in my stories belong to Professor Tolkien. I merely love writing about them and occasionally add something or someone. I hope you will enjoy this one.
> 
> *Ada/Adar - Dad/Father  
> *Nana/Naneth - Mom/Mother  
> *Daernaneth - Grandmother

That day in Imladris was full of worries. Glorfindel’s patrol failed to return home by the time it was expected, and several search parties including members of Lord Elrond’s Personal Guard had been dispatched to investigate the cause of the delay and bring them back. At the sundown, the horns blew in chilly pre-winter air, and the ancient warriors of the Guard led by their Captain, a stern-looking tall Noldorin lady, crossed the Ford. The ambushed patrol was brought back, its several members gravely wounded and carried by the Guards on their mounts.  
The Healing Wards were bustling with activity, Elrond himself and his Chief Surgeon walking from a wounded to a wounded, tending to the worst cases and listening and approving the courses of actions reported by other healers and apprentices.  
Glorfindel, sitting on a high examination table, was arguing with a healer, who was trying to suture a deep gash in his thigh. The young assistant was simultaneously trying to keep out of the way and keep the tray with suture material, ointments, needles and bandages at his master’s hand.  
‘Lord Glorfindel, keep still.’  
‘I’ve endured worse injuries, I do not need you lot fret over me. I am not staying the night here. I must report to the Lord as soon as he completes his duties here.’  
‘I’ve cleaned your wound, although I cannot rule out that complications brought on by the side effects of the poison will reveal themselves through the night. You are staying with us until morrow.’  
Loud rap on the door made all heads turn.  
‘Come in’, - uttered both the warrior and the healer. The opened door revealed the stately form of the Captain of the Guard. She looked around the room, not even in the slightest put out of her countenance by Glorfindel’s bare legs. The healer and his assistant bowed their heads. The barlog slayer squirmed.  
‘Laurefindel’ - her deep voice filled the small examination ward – ‘I’ve provided our Liege with all the information he desired. I am carrying his words to you: you are to stay here overnight. He is due to check on you in an hour. He’s also clearly expressed his hope to find you sutured, bandaged and resting.’  
‘As you say, milady Anoriel.’ - Glorfindel mockingly bowed his head. The smoldering rivalry between the two was no secret around the realm, and the residents took pleasure in observing the course of events. Both knew what kind of songs were sung about them in their absence at informal dinner parties. Glorfindel’s little adventure was probably being weaved into a hilarious ballad at that very moment. Anoriel curtly bowed her head with a hand over the heart and departed. Glorfindel winced. The healer resumed his work. Outside, a snowstorm was brewing.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
The cracking of the fire in Elrond’s study was comforting against the rapidly worsening weather. The Lord was going through maps with his captains and counselors.  
‘Let us round this up for now by enforcing the border patrols and sending out scouts to investigate orc activities in the mountains,’ uttered the Lord, standing up to signal the end of the meeting. All of the present rose from their seats expressing their approval and were leaving, when a maiden entered the chamber. She graciously curtsied to the Lord, and having received his full attention, said: ‘Young lords are restless, Milord. Nether I, nor Miriel have succeeded in putting them to bed. They keep crying for you to come and comfort them’.  
‘Very well, I’m coming.’  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
The wind was rattling the shutters in the nursery, where two very young boys were bravely opposing their nanny.  
‘There is a monster under my bed, I’m not going to sleep in it!’- Elrohir was wailing, Elladan hugging him and nodding in support, starry grey eyes wide and full of tears.  
‘There are no monsters in here, young sirs’,- tired Miriel said. ‘You both promised your Naneth to behave yourselves while she is on her leave visiting her kin…’  
‘ADA!!!’ - wailed the twins, when the door opened and Elrond swept over the room to sit on the bedside and hug the boys. ‘Ada, there is a monster under Elrohir’s bed!’  
Elrond sighed, tousling dark hair on his sons’ heads. ‘There shouldn’t be any. I would know if there were.’  
‘And you would slay it with your sword?’ – Elrohir whispered.  
Elrond had an instant flashback. He and his twin brother once were seized with the same fear one stormy night in their guardians’ fortress. Maglor failed to calm them, they kept wailing and sobbing, until Maedhros, distressed by the sound of crying children, demanded to tell him what was going on.  
‘There is a monster under the bed; we are not going to sleep in it! ‘- the twins cried in unison, hugging each other and looking up at the giant Feanorion with tear-filled yes.  
‘Under this bed? ‘– Maedhros gestured at the bed they were supposed to sleep in. The boys nodded enthusiastically. ‘One moment‘– the red haired Noldo swiftly left the room and returned in almost no time with his sword. Maglor gasped and rushed to stop his hand, when the mighty blow pierced the bed, sheathing the weapon as far as it would go. The silence that followed was deafening. ‘I doubt this monster is able to hurt anyone now,’ – Maedhros roared. Wide-eyed Maglor silently sank down onto the ruined piece of furniture, pressing a hand to his heart. The boys cheered and hugged the red-haired lord’s legs. That night they slept with him.  
‘Yes, I would slay it with my sword’, - Elrond confirmed with a smile, when Elladan came up with a new challenge: ‘And what if you fail?’ The nannies and Elrohir gasped and looked at Elrond. The Lord looked down at his son with one brow raised and uttered: ‘If I fail, we’ll call Glorfindel. He killed a Barlog, after all. ‘  
‘Everyone knows Glorfy is in infirmary! How will he help?’  
‘Then we’ll call Anoriel and the Guard.’  
‘What if they fail, too?’  
‘We’ll call all Imladrin Army,’ – the bemused Lord parried. The twins looked at each other and then back at their father.  
‘And what if they all fail?’  
Elrond frowned and leaned closer.  
‘Then’ – he shot a look at the nannies, who were standing near the bed enfolded in silence, staring at him, – ‘then I will have to report this case to your Daernaneth. And the moment she learns about it, everyone, the monster and the Imladrin Army included, will apologize for being out of bed at such a late hour and will go straight to sleep.’  
‘You too?’ – whispered the twins. The nannies giggled, then hurriedly shushed each other. Elrond shot another look at the maidens.  
‘No. In this case, I will have to endure an extended lecture on how to defend my realm and family against evil monsters. Practical tasks will follow immediately.’ The twins exchanged amused looks.  
‘Daernaneth loves you, and she knows that you would slay any monster should it come our way,’ – Elladan whispered.  
‘Indeed’ – Elrond whispered back. The twins laughed and gave him a hug. The nannies started clapping.  
‘Bedtime!‘- Elrond announced, sending a dismissing glance to the maidens.  
‘Story!’ – the twins demanded.  
‘Alright!’ – the Lord resigned.


End file.
